coming through word from Brother Ivie Campbell, of Kirkcaldy, stopped me
and asked: "Is your name Don Carlos Janes?" It was another good friend,
Brother J.W. Murray. He said he told some one he was looking for me, and
was told, in return, that he would not be able to find me. His answer to
this was that he had picked out a man before, and he might pick out
another one; and so he did, without any difficulty. After a little time
spent in Waverley gardens, I ascended the Walter Scott Monument, which
is two hundred feet high. The winding stairway is rather narrow,
especially at the top, and it is not well lighted. As I was coming down
the stairs, I met a lady and gentleman. The little woman was not at all
enthusiastic over the experience she was having, and, without knowing of
my presence, she was wondering what they would do if they were to meet
any one. "Come on up and see," I said, and we passed without any special
difficulty, but she said she didn't believe "two stout ones could" pass.
As she went on up the winding way, she was heard expressing herself in
these words: "Oh, it is a place, isn't it? I don't like it." The
tourist finds many "places", and they are not all desirable. Princess
Street, on which the monument is located, is the prettiest street that I
have ever seen. One side is occupied by business houses and hotels, the
other is a beautiful garden, where one may walk or sit down, surrounded
by green grass and beautiful flowers.

Edinburgh Castle is an old fortification on the summit of a lofty hill
overlooking the city. It is now used as barracks for soldiers, and is
capable of accommodating twelve hundred men. Queen Mary's room is a
small chamber, where her son, James the First of Scotland and the Sixth
of England, was born. I was in the old castle in Glasgow where she spent
the night before the Battle of Langside, and later stood by her tomb in
Westminster Abbey. Her history, a brief sketch of which is given here,
is interesting and pathetic. "Mary Queen of Scots was born in Linlithgow